


Lost And Found

by vaguelynormal



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguelynormal/pseuds/vaguelynormal
Summary: Yunho ran away a long time ago, but Changmin is beginning to catch up to him.





	Lost And Found

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This is actually a friend from vaguelynormal posting these. He let me use his ao3 account to transfer his fics from other pages to here, so they wouldnt get lost, since i couldnt convince him to do it himself lol. So yeah!
> 
> Originally created on July 01 of 2012

Changmin pulls out onto the dirt road, dust spiriting up beneath his tyres and forming great clouds for him to drive through. It’s dawn and the rising sun peeking at the edge of the horizon throws brilliant reds into the sky, illuminating the road ahead in amber. It’s a little cold in the car and the back window is beginning to fog but the road is long and deserted. There isn’t a terrible amount of traffic to look out for in the middle of nowhere. 

He breaks in the early afternoon, the sun weak but the sky blue as he stops at a diner. There are cheap paper cups with burnt coffee in every town Changmin’s driven through but he’s become numb to the taste. Changmin sits in a small booth at the back and orders whatever looks like it can’t be fucked up off of the menu. He pulls out his maps, some hand-drawn, some purchased along the way and lays his wallet beside his chipped cup of coffee. The waitress takes the bait, asks him where he’s heading – they always do – and Changmin goes through his usual routine. 

Have you seen this man?

That night as Changmin drives along unlit roads with only his headlights and the faintest of clues to guide him, he feels a little bit closer to Yunho. 

 

It’s been a few long months since Yunho started running and though Changmin almost immediately gave chase, he often feels like he’s too far behind to catch up. He rarely takes breaks unless it’s to pick up gas or coffee and even then there are pills and energy drinks in the glove compartment and rolling beneath the passenger seat to keep him awake and a full tankard of petrol in the trunk. Out in the backwater towns, you never know when you’ll reach the next station. Sometimes though, Changmin likes to think Yunho purposely makes stops and leave tracks when he knows Changmin needs to rest, dangling clues ahead of him.

He checks into countless motels and caravan parks, lying down on his stomach in the bed Yunho once stayed in and sleeping for long hours. When he awakes it’s late afternoon and Changmin rolls onto his back and stares at the same ceiling Yunho must have looked at and feels closer to the other man. The rooms are almost always identical, regardless of which town he’s in or how unique its name is. There’s always a bed that squeaks too much with the slightest movement, faded wallpaper and chipped laminate. There are flat pillows that suggest Changmin would have a better night in the back of his car, a tap that constantly drips throughout the night and a shower with temperamental heat and questionable hygiene. If there is linoleum, it’s guaranteed to be sticky.

Changmin could almost laugh whenever he enters one of these rooms that Yunho has stayed in. He fingers the outdated quilt cover and the rough yet clean sheets and ignores the halogen lamps that flicker. Yunho hadn’t allowed himself the slightest touch of luxury or comfort and somehow, Changmin doesn’t want it either. He pulls open the cheap bedside drawer and picks up an old copy of the New Testament; he flicks through the pages as is his habit and stops when a slip of paper slipped inside catches his view. It’s a list of numbers: times, dates and something else but Changmin knows from the way the number twos are curled that it’s Yunho’s handwriting. He traces the lines of graphite, smiling to himself. He’ll find Yunho soon.

 

Out on the road, Changmin thinks about Yunho. There’s not much else on his mind. They’ve never had a lot of money, but there are enough savings to get them both through the small towns and in cheap lodgings for just under a year. 

Changmin doesn’t plan to wait that long. 

Yunho wouldn’t like it, but when Changmin is running a cold trail, running out of witnesses and clues, he checks where the man has been using their cards. For now though, Changmin follows the bus routes provided by the paper he found in the last motel. Yunho wouldn’t normally leave something so blatant but Changmin knows the man eventually wants to be found. 

 

The coastline is far behind them and there’s not much to see inland besides grass paddocks and farmland. The towns Changmin drives through are sleepy and small, sparse buildings and shops littering the main street. The people aren’t unfriendly but they’re not very welcoming to those who want to stay more than a couple of days. They’re stop over towns to the next state and they prefer it that way. A lot of them don’t even have places to stay and Changmin gets picked up a few times by local police for sleeping in his car. 

Changmin’s always preferred a quiet isolation too but Yunho forces him to connect with these people.

There’s a photo of Yunho slipped inside his wallet. It’s become worn, the edges bent and creased, the gloss diminished by countless fingerprints as he hands it over in every town. Tracing Yunho has pushed Changmin to make small talk and ask questions where he’d prefer silence. Often, Changmin wonders if Yunho anticipated that and if it might bring a smile to the man’s face. Yunho has always been one to strike conversations with complete strangers- it’s how they first met.

Have you seen this man? 

Changmin swears sometimes that Yunho’s smile in the photograph is beginning to fade. Still, he pins it to his dashboard on days when it feels harder to keep looking.

In the next town Changmin stops at, he buys a new map and traces his journey so far over eggs and toast. He’s crossed quite a few borders at this point and seen places he never knew existed but it’s harder to pinpoint where the often illogical and spontaneous Yunho will go next without a clue. The waitress asks him where he’s heading and for the first time in a while, Changmin doesn’t know. He follows wherever Yunho leads him. 

 

It’s been a long and big adventure, Changmin’s old car taking a beating and covered in red dust. The floor is littered with empty food packages, paper cups and water bottles, however, Changmin barely notices. He concentrates on the road ahead, deciding on a whim which direction to take, heading towards a town he likes the name of. That’s something Yunho would do to- hop on a train just to see what it was like somewhere else, try a new restaurant, barber or doctor. Changmin always liked to stick to what he knew, forming habits and routines, but Yunho was naturally curious. A brave explorer with a sense of adventure and passion, however that was the Yunho of before – an optimist who saw the world for all its endless possibilities. Changmin had loved that in Yunho.

The Yunho that Changmin met years ago wouldn’t have run away and certainly not alone. That was the Yunho who made plans for their future, who smiled easily and laughed often. Changmin still misses Yunho’s incredible warmth, the love and contentedness that came before.

Before they lost Jihye. Before Yunho stopped sleeping, stopped eating and forgot how to get words out around the awful, stifling grief that filled and consumed his body. Before Yunho started drinking and quit his job. Shortly before Yunho left a note and took a duffle bag and his wallet, but left his keys behind to board a train to someplace else. Anywhere else. Changmin had followed, but they both knew he would.

 

Changmin drives into a threadbare caravan park and follows his routine, Yunho’s photograph already in his hand. As he sits in the tiny, lopsided caravan and attempts to turn on the heat for the third time, he thinks about Yunho’s little sister. Jihye had been young, beautiful and full of life, just like Yunho. The siblings shared a good natured and sentimental personality and Changmin had warmed to her immediately and loved her like she was his own sister. A painful lump forms in Changmin’s throat and he swallows carefully, willing back tears. They fall anyway, heavy drops soaking into his worn down jeans as he sits on the sagging mattress and reminisces. He’s had time to mourn but the wound is still fresh and Changmin takes comfort in the bitter cold that seeps into his fingertips, giving up on the rickety, old heater. 

In another town, in a different motel, Changmin finds his next fragment of Yunho’s ghost. There’s a forest green scarf that has fallen down the back of a cupboard and Changmin holds it to his face, inhaling the comforting scent of Yunho. The stitches are big and loose- Yunho’s work- and Changmin wears it until the scent combines with his own and he can no longer distinguish between the two. It’s not like Yunho to leave more than a witness or a name, a train departing in only one direction for Changmin to follow but Yunho had a bad habit for being absent-minded when it came to his possessions. Changmin’s just glad to hold onto another piece of Yunho.

There’s a carnival being held in the next town over and Changmin remembers how Yunho used to love dragging him to those. He heads out the next morning after minimal sleep and arrives two days later, his car beginning to make sounds of protest and he hopes it will last a little longer. It’s the last day of the carnival, bright lights and painted stands already being dismantled whilst children shriek on the small-scale carnival rides. He watches the children for a moment, crashing cars into each other, being thrown up into the air and grasping their parents with sticky, cotton candied hands. Changmin thinks of the children Jihye will never have and it leaves him feeling tired and jaded. A candied apple tastes bitter when he bites into it and Changmin tosses it in the garbage, sighing as he pulls out the crumpled photograph and begins his rounds.

 

Two months, three weeks, eighteen motels and seven caravan parks later, Changmin pulls into a small parking lot. There’s a light flashing above the vacancy sign as Changmin sidles into reception and slides his details, cards and photograph across the table to a bored and haggard looking woman. He takes the proffered key and heads outside to the block of motel rooms, jogging up the cement steps to the second floor. He pauses outside the door, knocking softly before turning the key in the lock. It’s five in the morning and a dull grey from the open doorway illuminates the shabby room. Changmin smiles, closing the door behind him and making his way to the bed. He’s unshaven; clothes rumpled and in need of a shower but it doesn’t matter. Yunho is there, under the covers and as Changmin gets closer, the man opens his eyes to stare directly at Changmin.   
There’s no surprise in his expression but perhaps a hint of expectation and relief- Yunho has been running for a long time. Changmin has finally caught up. 

They smile, soft and slow, and it’s something new, a little shaky and hesitant. Happiness has been fleeting for them for a long time now and its return brings a sense of renewal to their relationship. Changmin shucks his shoes, jacket and jeans by a beaten up old chair before sliding into bed beside Yunho. He presses a kiss to Yunho’s lips, taking in the man’s tired but finally peaceful expression, along with a few more age lines and a little less weight to his frame. Changmin breathes Yunho in, his heart beginning with a kick-start as a sense of release breaks over him, contentment flooding in. 

Yunho kisses him back, delicate and softly exquisite, eyes fluttering closed, already slipping into much needed sleep. He turns on his side and Changmin presses up against Yunho’s back, wrapping arms around the man’s waist and feeling the warmth seep through his limbs again. 

‘I’ve got you,’ Changmin tells Yunho sleepily, pressing his nose to Yunho’s nape.

He feels Yunho’s hands interlace with his own and smiles. ‘I’m home,’ Yunho whispers.

Yunho was never lost; he was just waiting to be found.


End file.
